Luyện nghe bài hát Color My World Mine

I once met a man who trained himself not to
What he seems to have seen was a of everything
He's been painting on canvas since age thirteen
And claims he only exists in the mind of a higher
And I enjoy his work; mostly scenic
But one is focused on an easel where the man paints himself painting himself
And all in his visual field
He said was the only way he could make himself real
since he could remember, he had one nightmare reoccur
But until about ten years ago, it matter
It consisted of loud, distorted sounds echoing off the
He ran on top of it in to reach a ladder
Now sometimes, he'd get so close but never his destination
Which him much frustration 'cause he didn't know what it meant
And by the end of the dream, he saw the scene a bird's eye
Only to witness his dead body on the cement

It was only to witness his dead body laying on the
At it freaked him out, but after a while he grew content
So he thought, "It's a dream," and kept living his life
his soul on the canvas 'cause it sheds his planet light
And it on and on like space and time, ain't nothing odd
It's not that he didn't believe, he just didn't of God
His experience was one I couldn't
'Till I stopped being and listened to him as a friend
He

He once saw a painting told his whole life story
It was then he knew he was the art of divinity
He saw a painting that told his whole life story
A stroke of the gods made him one note in their symphony
He once saw a that told his whole life story
He for himself and not the rest of humanity
He once saw a painting that told his life story
And I realize I'm not real
God just me

It's I said
About ten ago, the event that changed his whole reality
place on his monthly trip to the local art gallery
It was there he studied his contemporaries
And there he nearly carried his sanity to a hole and buried it forever
It was a very day
The place was empty
And he got chills down his spine just being in the scene
On the wall, there was a picture looked familiar
And when he got close, his heart
cause he saw it was a of his dream
It was a of his dream
His on a runway
By a ladder to an with its propellers spinning
Which accounted for the loud
The match up was
And was the day he stopped believing in existing
He his creator
I mean, words explain
What must have went on in his brain while he into a frame
Of a work of art which he created and was at the same
The mind can't handle that much, it's insane
It's like reading a where each words describe your thoughts
And in quotations, it whatever you say when you talk
You think it happen
But it did
I there's surprisingly wide cracks in each life's sidewalk
He stumbled upon an when he never had a question
And decided to stop dreaming to his mental health
Now he hardly talks to
Just stays in his
infinity, by painting himself
Painting
This is a universe
Is it all just a
In the real universe, is my useless?
Are we something a higher intelligence made up?
A of imagination colored by a cosmic paintbrush?
Maybe all of our art the fate of other beings
Then every character in ever novel thinks it's and were just gods
blindly
Just a
I don't know what it
But that's the story of the man who himself not to dream

He once saw a paining that told his whole life
He the paradox of the word "existing"
He once saw a painting that told his whole story
He colored his theirs, and concluded he wasn't living
He once saw a that told his whole life story
The hidden that all that is is art
And I close my eyes, I see eternity as a story
A God the God that imagined me
And I am God
And so on